


Censored Kisses

by dendriticgold



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1437781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dendriticgold/pseuds/dendriticgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU version of 'that' scene in the 2012 CS. Thomas gets more than expected when Jimmy comes to speak with him after the events of the fair. But in his enthusiasm the issues of the past are unwisely brushed aside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

'Were you following me?' Said Jimmy eventually, forcing himself to look towards Thomas's bloodied face, if only for a moment.

Thomas gingerly met his gaze before looking quickly away. 'Had to keep an eye out.' He said, almost apologetically. 'Could see you'd had a bit to drink. So…' His hands trembled in his lap as he steeled himself to add. 'Yes. Yes I did follow you.' He concluded, every part of his demeanor and posture anticipating angry reproach.

'Why?' Said Jimmy, tapping into hitherto unknown levels of fortitude to come up with even such a cowardly way of leading discussion towards the true issue; the unspoken issue that had out of necessity, at least on his part, dogged and poisoned their interactions that past year.

'You know why.' Thomas answered, surprised, given the circumstances, to find himself being the one to issue reproach.

The sight of Jimmy's back was not wholly unexpected, and Thomas found himself wincing internally in anticipation of the slamming of his bedroom door (not that he suspected Jimmy would risk drawing any sort of attention to the fact he had been in Thomas's room, no matter how potent his anger).

But, unexpectedly, while Jimmy did indeed close the door he chose to do so with himself still the bedroom side of it. Turning back to Thomas, he paused to retrieve the wooden chair by the desk before walking back to him.

Thomas watched him, refusing to allow himself to even  _begin_  to speculate as to the direction the discussion would take, or more specifically as to the direction Jimmy would take the discussion; because, bleak as his mindset was, any speculation involving Jimmy always carried a tiny iota of hope, vain forlorn hope, no matter how hard he or reality tried to quell it.

He watched as Jimmy set the chair down on the floor, a good few feet away from the bed, and then, after a moment's consideration, picked it back up again to move it closer; eventually coming to sit so close to the bedside that Thomas began to feel self-conscious about the level of cover the thin fabric his pyjama bottoms and undershirt were providing to his various body-parts, making him resolve to keep his hands clasped as they were in his lap no matter how embarrassing the tell-tale trembling and fidgeting of his fingers.

Jimmy's knees brushed against the mattress and the bed-sheets as he sat down, he rubbed his hands over the tops of his thighs, ostensibly to smooth out the fabric but not fooling Thomas in the slightest (who could plainly see the level of nervousness in Jimmy's expression and agitated movements).

And there it was again; that infuriating hope.

In fact hope was far too strong a word for the thoughts running through Thomas's head. Even if he had been hoping, he wasn't sure any longer precisely  _what_ he was hoping for; too much had gone before to make simple resolution in any way viable.

Still, Jimmy hadn't left. And he didn't look as though he were making ready to shout. People didn't sit down to shout, he reassured himself.

Thomas looked awkwardly ahead, watching his pyjama clad legs as Jimmy hesitated.

In his peripheral vision he saw Jimmy's chest and shoulders rise from an intake of breath in preparation to speak, before rapidly deflating when Jimmy thought better of whatever it was he was planning to say.

'What is it?' Thomas said, trying to keep the discomfort off his face at the torturous physical proximity (and, equally apparent and torturous, emotional gulf) between them.

As the seconds ticked by with no answer Thomas began to almost hope that Jimmy  _didn't_ have anything to say. He wasn't sure his battered body and broken ego could take further discussion on 'that' matter; suddenly wanting nothing more than to curl up, carefully, on his side to sleep. Alone.

Even if the dubiously hoped for declaration of intent, or at least affirmation of past assumptions,  _did_  come, Thomas genuinely had no idea how he would…

'WHOA!' Thomas sat up in alarm, pulling his torso from it's perch against the headboard, squeezing his ribs painfully in the process, as Jimmy unexpectedly leant forwards; his face coming within a few inches of Thomas's crotch (or at least the hands lying over it) before rapidly retreating at Thomas's horrified reaction.

'What the…?' Thomas began to exclaim, halting at the sight of Jimmy's forlorn and dejectedly miserable facial expression. 'Jimmy…' Said Thomas, breathing raggedly through the fresh hurt across his rib cage. '…you don't… _owe_  me anything, you know. None of that, eh?' He concluded awkwardly.

It wasn't easy looking directly at Jimmy after that, but Thomas forced himself to do it.

He was surprised to find that Jimmy's misery seemed to have increased rather than lessened at his words, and contained more than a fair bit of disappointment. In fact, Thomas would have gone as far as to say he had never before seen someone looking so crestfallen.

Jimmy looked like he was about to cry.

'Jimmy…there's no need for that.' Thomas said tentatively, his initial horror giving way to concern. 'Unless…' He added slowly, after much consideration and with every anticipation of disaster. '…you  _want_  to.' Thomas deliberately didn't phrase it as a question. That would have brought too much of an air of finality to the discussion, too much conflict, and would have inevitably resulted in a 'no' or no answer at all.

But this way…this way allowed himself and Jimmy to regard one another in silence, electrically charged silence, but a surprisingly comfortable silence nonetheless, while Jimmy debated his position.

It wasn't long before he was once again leaning forwards.

Jimmy moved far more gingerly than before, repeatedly glancing sideways at Thomas as though anticipating protest. Thomas, for his part, could do no more than watch, mesmerised, as Jimmy brought his lips down to press against the back of his hand. It would have been an astonishing gesture even had Thomas's hand  _not_  been resting over his thinly veiled penis at the time.

Thomas felt his mouth fall open in surprise, but was powerless to re-set the look on his face in time to hide his shock from Jimmy when the latter looked up sideways at him. Thomas wasn't sure if Jimmy was seeking approval or assessment for his actions, but his silent earnestness was painfully heart-wrenching; not to mention the hint of triumph in Jimmy's eyes at having completed even so small a gesture of…something.

Thomas had a feeling he knew precisely what that something was, or rather, what that something  _would_  be were Jimmy to finally be fully honest with both himself and Thomas. And part of him, as Jimmy leant forwards again to give another kiss to his hand (in the process pressing Thomas's hand down, seemingly purposefully, onto the appendage beneath), cautioned that to compel Jimmy to actually vocalise the truth of the matter and admit it aloud would be advisable, certainly prior to allowing anything to occur on the physical level to ameliorate the likelihood of future repercussions in terms of accusations of one-sided lechery and coercion. Or regret at having acted without absolute certainty. But another part of Thomas, as he slowly moved his hand to his side, watching Jimmy's expression intently the whole time, reasoned that forcing discussion on the matter, breaking the unexpected moment,  _insisting_  upon absolute certainty during these first tentative steps, may very well close a door that would never re-open.

And it wasn't for entirely selfish reasons that he just couldn't bring himself to say anything that might dampen the brightness in Jimmy's eyes as he brought his lips back down again, this time to press gently to the mound that resided to one side of the seam running down the front of Thomas's pyjama bottoms.

Thomas stared, transfixed equally by the heat that instantly rose in his skin in response to the sensation of Jimmy's mouth, as he gently creased the thin layer of fabric covering Thomas's modesty under his lips as the kiss lingered, and the sight of Jimmy's head…there. The precision blond curls of such an angelic head looked terribly out of place in such a location; which, naturally, served to make their presence there all the more affecting and potent.

Thomas sighed softly as Jimmy withdrew.

'Very nice.' He said gently, and he meant it.

The worry on Jimmy's face evaporated almost instantly as he responded with a small yet triumphant smile.

Thomas blinked at the speed with which Jimmy descended to gift Thomas's penis with another firmer, although still painfully sensual, kiss.

'Very nice…' Thomas repeated in a whisper, lightly ( _very_  lightly) resting a hand at Jimmy's shoulder, rubbing small circles into the fabric of his waistcoat with his thumb.

Clearly emboldened by his evident success, Jimmy placed first one then another, then another, slow and lingering touch with his mouth, tracing along the seam of Thomas's pyjamas, opening his lips a little to brush them more fully over the curve of the appendage below before sealing the contact with a kiss.

'Oh Jimmy…' Thomas whispered, leaning his head back with his eyes closed contentedly, not sure of what else to say, not sure if there  _was_  anything else to say.

He noticed with a lurch that Jimmy had stopped.

Opening his eyes, he found Jimmy looking up at. He looked nervous again.

'What?' Thomas said silently with a twist of his head.

Jimmy's eyes flicked briefly downwards in response before returning questioningly to Thomas's face.

'I don't understand…' Said Thomas with his eyes.

Jimmy's eyes glanced downwards again to the fabric of Thomas's pyjamas, then up again; seeking.

Frowning a little, not daring to believe for one moment he had interpreted Jimmy's unspoken wishes correctly, Thomas nevertheless slowly brought his hands to his front to untie the cord about his waist.

When Jimmy issued no protest, Thomas proceeded to hook his thumbs in the waistband of his pyjamas, tugging them down to expose the flesh beneath.

He couldn't help but smile in relief (not to mention pleasure) at the look on Jimmy's face as he did so; it was the perfect representation of that split second moment between a child opening a parcel at Christmas and fathoming out precisely what the present is, an endearing and delightful moment for all concerned.

But here it was just the two of them. And somehow he, Thomas, was half-naked and Jimmy seemed to like it.

Thomas did briefly wonder if the louts at the fair had caused more damage to his head than had been realised at the time.

He felt a strange but pleasant tightening in his lower belly at the sight of Jimmy's absent lick of his lips as he surveyed the prospect below for a good long while.

Thomas didn't dare speak; not when Jimmy began to lower his head again, not when he felt Jimmy's breath on his skin, not when he felt a tiny taster of the hot, wetness of Jimmy's mouth through his lightly parted lips as he made contact with the side of his penis, and certainly not when Jimmy opened his mouth a little wider to run his lips over it's curve, causing the deceptively delicate skin to briefly rumple in the same manner as the fabric of his trousers had done a moment earlier. No, he didn't dare say a word. But he did open his mouth impossibly wide as he rested his head back at an awkward angle against the headboard, feeling twinges of pain (that he was more than happy to live with) as the muscles of his torso contracted in excitement at the first such contact his crotch had received in years.

He risked running the fingers of his right hand around the back of Jimmy's neck and up gently into his hair-line as his penis hardened at the kisses ghosted along it's shaft.

Jimmy didn't seem to mind. Although he did pause in his endeavors, utterly transfixed by the growing attentiveness of Thomas's penis to his ministrations.

Thomas smiled to himself as Jimmy eventually lowered his head again in anticipation of what was to follow, or at least what  _generally_  followed under such circumstances.

Sure enough, he felt Jimmy take a tentative grasp of his erection to better angle it towards his mouth.

Then came the deliciously teasing press of Jimmy's soft lips to the tip, then the maddeningly stimulating sensation of Jimmy's tongue briefly snaking it's way past his lips to give a small experimental lick to the grove running along the underside of the engorged head, peaking as it was from within the confines of his foreskin.

Thomas murmured contentedly as Jimmy's tongue returned for a second taste.

But he soon became aware the sensations had stopped.

Opening his eyes and glancing down again, Thomas found Jimmy looking up at him with a highly triumphant and devilish smile on his face; the look of a man who has conquered not only the mountain, but also himself, to paraphrase a great adventurer.

Thomas's lips curled into a tentative and encouraging smile, which caused Jimmy's to widen still further. But he made no move to return to his previous activities, even going so far as to release Thomas's erection to lie back against his stomach.

Thomas stroked the back of Jimmy's head appreciatively, doing his best to maintain the smile, as he grappled with the awkward realisation that Jimmy seemed completely ignorant as to what more could be 'done' under such circumstances to obtain satisfaction, or even the fact that 'satisfaction' was generally the goal of such endeavors.

'I…um…' Thomas fumbled, unable at that moment (faced with Jimmy's painfully innocent happiness at his accomplishment) to correct him.

Words wouldn't come.

Disregarding the pain in his ribs, and they were throbbing by that point, not to mention the bruises and cuts at his lips, Thomas leant forwards and drew Jimmy's head up and towards him with gentle pressure on the back of his neck.

As their lips met Thomas took a moment to muse that perhaps they should have  _begun_  like that, when they were both suddenly jolted by the sound of footsteps in the corridor outside.

'James? James are you…?'

Before Mr Carson finished the sentence Jimmy had ejected himself up out of his chair and stumbled over to the door.

He was careful to close it fully behind him upon exiting, shooting a brief backwards glance at Thomas that answered precisely none of the questions that Thomas was left pondering as he stared blankly after him.


	2. Chapter 2

Thomas was laid up for almost a full week before Clarkson deemed his ribs (and Carson, his face) sufficiently healed to resume his duties as Under Butler.

Jimmy hadn't come to see him again.

Thomas had mixed feelings about that.

On the one hand, Jimmy's absence was something of a blessing. That week Thomas would have been the first to admit he was in no condition to undertake any strenuous activity of the physical  _or_  mental variety. And, truth be told, he was glad there was no one (in particular, Jimmy) to witness the irrepressible childish look of glee that insisted on stretching it's way across his face every time he thought of soft lips tentatively invading private places and, more importantly, everything that could be inferred from them.

No. His pride wouldn't have stood anyone seeing him in such a state those first few days after the unexpected outcome of Jimmy's visit.

But, on the other hand, that same pride was hurt that Jimmy was staying away.

In particular as Thomas was in the rare ( _very_  rare) position of being free all day and night and felt as though some sort of advantage should be taken.

Although, he reminded himself, Jimmy most likely  _wasn't_  free. It was perfectly plausible that Jimmy and Alfred's workloads had increased in his absence.

Thomas supposed Jimmy might be in a similar position to himself; surprised at that what had happened and needing a few days to be able to mentally process the development before being able to respond in an appropriately restrained manner. He rather liked the idea of Jimmy stealing moments during his working day to have a secret smile on his behalf.

Unfortunately there were several, far less desirable, alternate scenarios which also played themselves out in his mind.

Thomas wasn't sure which one he found the most alarming between the prospect of Jimmy being crippled by self-doubt and fear, or alternately having decided the whole thing had been a huge mistake and having resolved to keep his distance forever after. The thought made him cold to the core despite the woollen blankets of the bed and the endless sunlight pouring through the window as the last days of summer wore on.

It was an indescribable relief when he rejoined the staff for his first communal breakfast since the attack at the fair and found himself the recipient of a tiny, brief, but genuine smile from Jimmy across the table before he went back to talking to Alfred about some inconsequential matter involving picture postcards.

Thomas's lips drew themselves into an answering smile even after Jimmy had turned away.

As he went about his (reduced) duties, that day, Thomas pondered the prospect of trying to engineer a private moment to speak with Jimmy. He soon discarded the notion in a bout of paranoia about crowding Jimmy, harassing him or of forcing an unwelcome confrontation that Jimmy may not yet be ready to have. He settled instead for making his pleasure at Jimmy's presence apparent whenever their paths crossed during the day, subtly communicating through smiles and easy expressions that he would welcome being approached at such time as Jimmy felt ready to do so.

In a roundabout way, the moment came three days later.

Thomas, sitting solo at the table in the servant's hall with a book in hand as the late evening properly gave way to night, looked up to find Jimmy hovering in the open doorway.

Jimmy caught Thomas's eye like a rabbit caught in a headlight.

'Got somewhere else to be?' Said Thomas jovially to cut the suddenly tense atmosphere.

'No.' Said Jimmy slowly, stepping into the room. 'I'm all done for the day…I was just looking for Alfred.' He said with a small smile, in a voice which could simultaneously be interpreted as serious of joking.

Thomas looked down, pretending to turn his focus back to his book. 'I don't suppose you fancy talking to me instead?' He said nonchalantly.

'No. I don't believe I would.'

Thomas looked up to find Jimmy grinning.

Thomas's eyes near rolled back in his head at the wave of relief that washed over him.

'So…' Said Jimmy, sliding into the seat next to Thomas but making no move to pull it closer. '…how are you feeling?'

'I'm alright.' Said Thomas softly, abandoning the pretence of reading to swivel his upper body towards Jimmy (marvelling at the fact he was able to do so given the excruciating pain he had been in just over a week ago. 'But…' He said, biting his lip. '…I'd be more interested to know how you're feeling. You know,  _after_.'

Jimmy nodded, chewing his own in lip in an unconscious mimic of Thomas's nervous gesture.

'I'm alright, Mr Barrow.' Said Jimmy. 'Thomas.' He corrected himself with a small but cheeky smile as Thomas's eyebrow arched skywards. 'I'm alright.'

'Good.' Said Thomas gently, with a satisfied (and VERY relieved) nod of his own head. 'That's good Jimmy…' He paused. 'So…?' He begun, with no idea where to go.

'So…?' Jimmy echoed with a nervous chuckle, rocking forward in his seat to strum his fingers against the wood of the table.

'That was…unexpected.' Said Thomas. 'Unexpected and…very nice.' He said, watching Jimmy's face to catch the moment his mouth would twitch in delight at the sentiment.

He wasn't disappointed.

'I'm glad to hear that…Thomas.' Said Jimmy, deliberately teasingly avoiding Thomas's gaze.

'I think…' Jimmy continued slowly. '…I might be interested in a bit more of that.'

'Well…' Thomas said, the apples of his cheeks flushing an uncharacteristic pink. '…that is very good to hear.' He said, wondering at his sudden bashfulness. 'I was getting a bit worried, you know…when you didn't come back and see me again…'

Jimmy twisted his lips. 'I wasn't sure if I should, or if you'd want me to.' He said, looking pensive before the devilishness returned to his face with a vengeance.

'I still can't believe I bloody did that!' Jimmy suddenly exclaimed with a laugh, flicking his gaze downwards to the position of Thomas's crotch, hidden under the table top.

'You know…' Thomas began slowly, deciding that sooner rather than later would be the best time for this particular talk. '…sometimes when people do…'that'…' He said wryly. '…they do it al the way through until it's finished, like how you would when you use your hand on yourself…'

'What…' Jimmy frowned. '…like, make someone orgasm with their  _mouth_? Instead of…um…'

'Yes.' Thomas said, deciding he might as well go for broke, returning to pretending to be fascinated by the book in front of him. 'Some people like to catch it in their mouth…'

'Why?' Said Jimmy, his expression caught somewhere between fascination and horror.

'Well it ain't the taste.' Said Thomas with a laugh.

'You've done it then?' Jimmy demanded curiously.

Thomas nodded.

Jimmy stared over at the wall ahead while he considered this new information.

'I could show you.' Said Thomas softly, flicking absently at the pages of his book. 'I mean…if you'd be comfortable letting me, of course.'

'What, on me? No. No, thank you.' Jimmy said instantly, making as though to cross his legs, automatically dropping a hand into his lap to protectively shield his crotch.

'Right. Aright.' Thomas said quickly, retreating into himself a little. 'Sorry.'

'Could  _I_  try though?'

Thomas blinked. 'You…what?'

'Can I try, on you?'

'Erm…I'm not…I'm not sure that's a good idea at the moment.' Said Thomas reluctantly. 'Well you see…' He began to explain in response to Jimmy's questioning look. '…theres…um…a bit more to it that what you were doing…before.'

'Like what?' Said Jimmy.

'Well you…' Thomas began. '…you put it in your mouth. All the way in your mouth…and then you sort of…lick…and suck…on it.' He said, shooting an apologetic look at Jimmy and swearing that he could happily go the rest of his life without EVER having a conversation like this again.

'Oh…' Jimmy whispered, directing his gaze from the wall to the table. 'Oh…' He grimaced. 'So I did it wrong then?'

Thomas chanced reaching out to cover Jimmy's wrist with his hand.

'Jimmy, believe me, when it comes to your mouth and my cock there is no such thing as 'wrong'.'

Thomas winced a little at the lewdness of the sentiment so expressed, but it did have the desired effect of drawing a relieved laugh from Jimmy.

Thomas laughed himself, although he didn't care for the way Jimmy almost instantly withdrew his hand back from his touch.

'How do you want to do this then?' Said Jimmy, flicking his eyes downwards in a highly suggestive manner.

'Are you actually serious?' Laughed Thomas, his eyes closely following the progress of Jimmy's tongue as it appeared in the corner of Jimmy's mouth and began to run along the length of his lower lip.

'Why not?' Said Jimmy. 'The others have all gone up by now, otherwise we would have seen them. And you've made me VERY curious…'

Thomas smiled. 'Well first…' He said, getting to his feet and drawing Jimmy up after him. '….there's something important we should do first.'


	3. Chapter 3

Jimmy stepped forwards as Thomas backed up to the far end wall of the servant's hall.

'What…? Said Jimmy dubiously.

'Just…patience!' Laughed Thomas, pulling Jimmy closer by each wrist, ducking his head to bring them almost nose to nose.

'Ah…' Said Jimmy, realising.

He waited, lips parted, as Thomas slowly brought their mouths together; the smoke and coffee on Thomas's breath mingling with the stale but homely taste of bread (Mrs Patmore's finest, thought Thomas) and citrus fruits (stolen from an upstairs fruit-basket no doubt) on Jimmy's as their mouths finally made contact.

'Mmmm…' Jimmy murmured appreciatively, eventually breaking the kiss. 'You know I couldn't believe you still wanted to kiss me other day. You know, after where my mouth had been…'

'Of course I did. And I'll be wanting to kiss you again today…' Said Thomas, punctuating the sentence with another wet press of his lips against Jimmy's.

'What…even after…I mean, If I…?' Jimmy stumbled over his words, making no attempt to hide the disgust on his face at the notion.

'Yes.' Said Thomas simply. 'Because it's you.'

This time it was Jimmy who leaned in to rejuvenate the kiss. 'Alright.' He said, lingering at Thomas's mouth. 'Alright.' He gave a nervous laugh. 'You going to sit back down for me then?'

Thomas gave a sheepish grin. 'It's probably going to be easier for you if I stand. And if you…um…' He motioned towards the floor with his palm.

'Oh, right.' Jimmy said, suddenly looking a little lost as he sank down to his knees; picking disdainfully at the flecks of dust on the stones and making a mental note to chide the maids the day after.

'Jimmy, let's just leave this for another time.' Said Thomas, looking affectionately down at him.

'But I'm down here  _now_.' Said Jimmy jovially.

Thomas couldn't argue with that logic, although something about the situation still didn't sit quite right with him.

Jimmy swallowed. 'So do I just…?' He said, reaching up to grapple with the buttons at Thomas's trouser front.

'You do indeed.' Said Thomas softly, intently watching Jimmy's progress and reactions as he uncovered him.

The final part of the process, namely the tugging aside of underwear, had Thomas quite literally 'lending a hand'; having observed Jimmy staring mutely and uselessly at the final fabric barrier for some moments.

It might have been fear that had Jimmy crippled, and Thomas was well prepared to tuck himself back in and call it a night should that prove to be the case. But the wondrous look in Jimmy's eyes as Thomas exposed himself had Thomas surmising that nothing more sinister than beginner's nerves had caused the hesitation.

Seconds later, after another licking of his lips that had Thomas sharply inhaling in anticipation, Jimmy moved forwards to run the mid-section of his tongue in a slow, firm, lick up the front of Thomas's flaccid length; coming to rest with his nose in the hair above.

Jimmy lingered a moment, savouring the unexpectedly pleasant scent, before covering up his hesitation with a kiss (reminiscent of those offered on the previous occasion). He dipped his head to give another long lick to Thomas's shaft.

Thomas, for his part, declarations of contentment notwithstanding, was feeling a little awkward. Their public location and Jimmy's inexperience had his penis remaining stubbornly soft.

Not that he wasn't enjoying the experience, or not wanting it to continue (there was something highly erotic about seeing one's penis, flaccid or otherwise, being worshipped in such a manner), but physically it just wasn't quite working; making things hard (in every way other than the 'right' way) for Jimmy, and awkward for him.

Thomas debated the idea of stroking himself hard to give Jimmy a bit of a head-start, so to speak. But dim recollections of his own early ventures into such territory impressed upon him the need to preserve the fragile ego of the novice at all costs.

Something of a nudge  _was_  needed, however.

'So…' Thomas said gingerly. 'You going to try getting your mouth around it?'

'Right…' Said Jimmy, sitting back on his heels for a moment. He looked up at Thomas's face, then down to his penis, then up to his face again.

'Jimmy?' Said Thomas gently.

'Does it count?' Said Jimmy.

'Does it…what?' Thomas cocked his head to one side in confusion.

'As…sex.' Jimmy said, pursing his lips nervously. 'Does my doing 'that' mean we've had sex?'

The urge to respond with a simple yes/no answer was strong, and Thomas certainly knew which side of the debate his own opinion favoured.

But he was aware that in the public sphere, not to mention that of personal morality, the matter was debateable to say the least.

He was wary of providing a definitive answer either way, given the weight some individuals attached to such matters. And given the situation, leaning back against the wall with his trousers open in anticipation, Thomas didn't fully trust that his answer could be considered  _completely_  selfless; given the answer he suspected Jimmy was looking for.

Thomas rested his head back against the wall, fighting the urge to smile at the ridiculousness of pondering the philosophical ramifications of physical contact while exposing himself, in full livery nonetheless, with a livery-clad man kneeling expectantly at his feet.

'I suppose…' Thomas said slowly. '…it depends how you define it, doesn't it.'

Jimmy nodded, seeming satisfied, his lips quirking into a smile as his enthusiasm returned.

Thomas shifted his feet a little to perfect his balance in preparation as Jimmy raised himself back up onto his knees.

Jimmy took hold of Thomas, more clinically than sensually in his concentration, but Thomas's knees went weak all the same, and opened his mouth to accommodate him.

Although Jimmy barely took it in past the head, Thomas couldn't help but moan loudly at first contact with the heat inside Jimmy's mouth.

Jimmy didn't take it in further, but his attempts at sucking at the tip, coupled with the kind of wet licks necessary to speedily dissolve hard candy, managed to coax Thomas's penis into life simply by virtue of persistence (and the effective, if accidental, effect of Jimmy's lips forming a tight seal around the skin – a side effect of his being disused to holding his mouth open for extended periods of time).

Jimmy moved back with a dissatisfied grunt as Thomas's half-formed erection began to make it harder for him to reach, not to mention get his mouth around it.

Thomas laughed at Jimmy's petulant expression and earned himself a dark look in response.

'Come on…' Said Thomas gently with a grin, running the backs of his fingers affectionately down Jimmy's cheek. '…have a go, eh?'

After holding his grump for a few more moments, Jimmy's face melted into an answering grin.

'Try and see how much you can take in.' Thomas's libido forced him to add as Jimmy opened his mouth to accommodate the engorged tip. 'You know, into your mouth and throat.'

If Jimmy was scandalised by Thomas's suggestion, he didn't show it.

Thomas's jaw twitched involuntarily as Jimmy sank his mouth down further, a steadying hand gripping the base of Thomas's penis to angle it towards him.

Thomas quite forgot to warn Jimmy of the dangers of pushing things too far into one's mouth, but that didn't matter as Jimmy was forced to withdraw in the grips of a bout of coughing and spluttering before Thomas's penis reached anywhere near the back of his throat.

'Just…' Thomas gently stroked a hand over Jimmy's hair, waiting for the coughs to subside while he attempted to calm his own heaving chest. '…just take a little more, a little, each time you try.'

Jimmy resumed his attempt to swallow Thomas with far more restraint and caution than before.

No words left to say, Jimmy was free to test his limits, repeatedly, while Thomas languished blissfully against the wall, utterly unable to believe his luck.

It wasn't long before the hand that Jimmy had gripped around the base of Thomas's penis became unnecessary, as he found himself able to bring his lips, wrapped tightly round Thomas's shaft, so close to the base of it as to make the remaining few fractions of an inch negligible.

Jimmy's opinion of the activity was set fairly early on.

The sensation of Thomas's penis running over his tongue, lips, and the inner smoothness of his mouth and throat, the feeling of 'fullness' at the intrusion as he willed himself open to accommodate it, the musky smell that grew stronger as Thomas's responses to his ministrations increased, beadlets of sweat appearing on Thomas's forehead and above his pubis as he gasped and moaned appreciatively…In short, Jimmy found he liked it.

Thomas, for his part, was enjoying the experience almost to the point of complete distraction; the only troubling thought in his mind at that point was the issue of whether to look down at the intoxicating sight of himself disappearing into Jimmy's eager mouth, or whether to look up at the heavens through closed eyes to fully savour the physical sensations without the distraction of a visual.

He was delirious with the feeling of being enclosed (by something  _other_  than his own fist) for the first time in years, and overcome with the fact it was  _Jimmy_  providing the moment.

Something of a  _coup_  in more ways than one, he absently thought. The unexpected bitterness behind the thought remained half-formed in the heat of the moment and Thomas's mind quickly moved on.

Chaste and enduring though his love may be for the Jimmy he had admired from afar, Thomas couldn't help but groan, helplessly aroused, by the notion of where else, equally hot, inviting and unexplored, he might be permitted to bury himself.

And the way Jimmy had parted his knees to enable more manoeuvrability as he tended to Thomas with his mouth wasn't helping.

Unconsciously, he and Jimmy began to somewhat compete in terms of the volume of their moans, Jimmy having somewhat of an advantage (despite his mouth-full) given that each sound he made tingled in an electric (and distracting to the point of muteness) way over Thomas's cock.

Hard as it may have been to establish whose moans of pleasure were the most enthusiastic, it was easy to say whose moans stopped first upon the unexpected entrance of Mr Carson, Mrs Patmore and Alfred.


	4. Chapter 4

Thomas, having the benefit of being able too see over Jimmy's (busy) head to the doorway, instantly registered the intrusion. And from the flour spatters across the fronts of Alfred and Mrs Patmore, quickly surmised that Mr Carson had happened to catch the two of them during an illicit late-night cookery lesson and had decided to relocate to the servant's hall in order to scold one or both of them; clearly not having expected to chance upon another 'lesson' in progress.

In their shock the three interlopers were rendered as mute as Thomas, thus Jimmy was able to continue merrily on, oblivious, until a sharp tug at his hair coupled with the suspicious halting of Thomas's appreciative noises alerted him to the fact that something was wrong.

Despite the direness of the situation (and it  _was_  dire, however one looked at it) Thomas couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction that Jimmy's partiality had been quite so convincingly demonstrated for the onlookers. No one could possibly doubt it having seen the continued moans and movements (that he had continued to make even after Thomas's active participation had ceased) not to mention the rather impressive feat of the penis still fully embedded down his throat.

Thomas blinked at that thought, disturbed that the notion should have come to mind at all that the others might suspect him of having 'forced' the encounter.

Then he remembered the reason why such a notion  _would_  cross his mind.

Then he remembered that irregardless of the issue of consent he and Jimmy were, at the present moment, in something of a pickle. Everything else could wait.

'What is  _this_?' Carson's booming tones (sounding far more assured than the man himself was feeling) echoed round the servant's hall; leaving Jimmy, whose blood had suddenly retreated from his extremities, to undertake the highly undesirable task of allowing the considerable length of Thomas's erection (which, rather understandably, was suddenly lagging) to slide out of his mouth in front of a rapt and horrified audience.

The worst of it was shielded from the others by the arm Thomas had stretched out to allow him to grip the top of Jimmy's head, but he was obliged to remove the shielding arm as Jimmy released him for the sake of his own modesty, to attempt to tuck himself back into his underwear and get his trousers done up as quickly and discretely as possible.

Jimmy stayed where he was on the floor, facing away from the others (at that point still ignorant as to precisely how many 'others' may be involved) wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and staring up at Thomas with fearful and pleading eyes.

Thomas shot him a brief apologetic look, genuinely having no idea how to in any way ameliorate the situation, before raising his head to attempt to meet Carson's outrage with dignity.

'James, you will get to your feet THIS INSTANT!' Carson demanded.

Gingerly and hesitantly, in spite of the urgency in Carson's order, Jimmy did so; his face falling upon being greeted with the sight of Mrs Patmore and Alfred in addition to Mr Carson.

'WHAT is the meaning of THIS?' Carson admonished loudly.

Thomas knew Carson well enough to recognise a question that expected no answer and waited silently, doing his best to look penitent.

Jimmy did not.

'Mr Carson, I…'

Thomas closed his eyes with a grimace as Carson turned the full brunt of his barely suppressed rage on Jimmy.

'You DARE to speak to me after doing such….such…after such FILTH!?' He hissed. 'After so DIRTY and SHAMEFUL a thing!?'

Jimmy shrank back, mercifully remaining silent.

'You will wash your mouth out with soap before you speak to me, do you understand?'

Jimmy quickly nodded.

'Do it now!' Carson ordered, indicating the door. 'Then proceed immediately to my office.'

Without another word Jimmy half-slipped, half-walked, to the doorway as speedily as possible, very determinedly avoiding Alfred's darkly accusatory gaze as he did so.

'My office. Now.' Carson gruffly asserted to Thomas.

Thomas made his way over to the doorway at a brisk but not overly hurried pace, shooting an apologetic glance towards the evidently traumatised figures of Mrs Patmore and Alfred, although in both cases another more predominant emotion was taking over the shock; Mrs Patmore's initial astonishment was clearly giving way to a wry amusement (Thomas could have sworn the nod she gave him upon his passing was more congratulatory than conciliatory) while Alfred seemed thoroughly angry, though clearly not with Thomas.

Carson lingered a moment longer after he had left, no doubt to firmly impress upon the others the importance of keeping silent as regards to what they had just seen. A fairly pointless endeavour, to Thomas's way of thinking, as he was nigh on certain that Mrs Patmore would share the scandalous news with Mrs Hughes whatever Carson said, and he highly suspected that Alfred would take the opportunity to inform Ivy (or compel  _Jimmy_  to inform Ivy) of a watered-down version of the particulars in order to further his cause.

Thomas entered Carson's office with a marked feeling of trepidation, although in a strangely disjointed way he was aware he was not nearly as scared as he should have been under the circumstances.

'It would appear, Mr Barrow, that I have been wrong on two accounts.' Said Carson as he entered the office behind Thomas, closing the door as he did so. 'It would appear…' Carson continued as he took his usual seat behind the desk, evidently needing the feeling of comfort and authority the position provided him. '…that I have been deceived as regards to James's true character, and may consequently have dealt with you overly harshly in the past on that account…'

Thomas braced himself for the counterpoint.

'It would also appear…' Carson said coldly. '…that I have been deceived in thinking that your level of maturity, position and dedication to this household would provide sufficient determent from indulging your….base, and might I add ILLEGAL, urges. WHAT were you thinking!?'

Thomas bowed his head a little at Carson's scolding, reasoning there wasn't really any other safe course of action at that moment. (And utterly certain that informing Carson he had recently been thinking nothing more than how marvellously delightful it would be to sodomise his least favourite Footman on his hands and knees in the servant's hall would  _probably_ be an unwelcome response to the question.)

Thomas realised why he wasn't scared; he was too busy trying not to laugh.

Because the situation was funny, painfully and hysterically so, but it  _was_  funny.

'You repay His Lordship with such disgraceful and DISRECPECTFUL activities in his own home? After EVERYTHING he has done for you? After he championed your cause in remaining here even after you'd already proved yourself unable to control your DISGUSTING habits?'

'It won't…' Thomas began, not caring one bit for Carson's choice of words but deciding that now was not the time to make a stand. 'I'm sorry…It won't happen again, Mr Carson.' Said Thomas quickly. 'Nothing else has…happened. I can promise you that. And it wouldn't…' Thomas continued, playing the only card he thought likely to even begin to touch Carson's outrage. '…because we respect His Lordship too much to engage in…the act.' Thomas debated casually naming 'the act' but decided that he and Carson both knew what he meant and that it wasn't worth risking fanning the flames of Carson's anger with coarse language. 'What we were doing is wrong, I know that and I am so so sorry. But we were just messing about. And it won't happen again. I wasn't thinking. We weren't thinking.' He said earnestly, dearly hoping that Carson fell into the group of people who disregarded oral stimulation (at least between men; Thomas didn't want to contemplate Carson's reactions upon stumbling upon an alternative gender configuration under the same circumstances) as a 'sex' act per se.

Although, of course, this was the man who had felt compelled to sack and ruin him for the crime of a single, brief, closed-mouthed kiss (not that Carson was to know the specifics of _that_  night). But then there had been the issue of consent, and if Jimmy hadn't insisted upon his being given no reference…

Thomas's stomach knotted itself uncomfortably.

Thomas was not to know whether his words had struck a chord or not with Carson as Jimmy chose that moment to knock at the door.

'Enter!' Boomed Carson at Jimmy's uncharacteristically tentative knock.

Thomas glanced sideways at Jimmy, interested to see if he had taken Carson's orders regarding the soap literally. But he couldn't tell (Jimmy's sour look was perfectly appropriate to the situation, soap or no soap) and he doubted Mr Carson was actually going to get his nose anywhere near enough to Jimmy's mouth to check.

'I'm not going to ask for a defence.' Said Carson to Jimmy as he stood to attention beside Thomas. 'Because after the disruption this house has suffered on your account I can assure you there is no sufficient defence you could possibly offer.' Carson sniffed, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, his fingertips tented in front of his chest. 'I would revisit the comments I made to Mr Barrow at the time of your…complaint…if I thought it would be in any way helpful. I find those comments, somewhat unexpectedly, to be just as applicable, if not more so, to yourself as to Mr Barrow in the face of your deceitful intransigence. But…' Carson lowered his hands, giving a single agitated tap on the arms of the chair. '…as I said, I think it would accomplish little to revisit such words.'

Although he wasn't certain, Thomas thought he recognised an unexpected (and highly welcome) iota of understanding, almost respectfulness, in Carson's manner of address; well, at least on his account.

Jimmy was another matter entirely.

The way Carson was looking at him, Thomas wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if Carson were to rise from his seat and beat Jimmy about the ears.

'Nothing…' Said Carson firmly, eyeing each of them in turn. '…And I mean absolutely NOTHING of this nature will ever occur again.'

'Yes, Mr Carson.' Said Thomas meekly, not allowing himself to feel relieved quite yet although registering the hint that himself and Jimmy would be remaining at Downton.

His words were echoed by Jimmy.

'I shall not trouble His Lordship with this…unpleasantness…on this occasion.' Continued Carson. 'But know that should anything of this matter arise again I shall have no qualms as regards to issuing an ultimatum to His Lordship insisting that either you go or I do. Do I make myself clear?'

'Yes, Mr Carson.' Said Thomas, suspecting that Carson was incorrect in surmising that Robert wouldn't find the events of that evening sufficient grounds to throw both himself and Jimmy out of the house, all but certain that Robert's 'understanding' nature wouldn't stretch to genital play in the servant's hall; but, for obvious reasons, he deigned to keep silent on that score.

'Get out of my sight. And I want to hear no more about this.' Said Carson, clearly eager to be rid of both them and the matter in general.

'Thank you Mr Carson.' Said Thomas quietly with a bow.

Jimmy bowed but did not speak.

The two of them gratefully made their way to the door.

Without speaking they walked briskly down the hall and mounted the staircase, bound for the attic bedrooms.


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas followed Jimmy into his bedroom without being asked and turned to close the door behind him, deciding that really  _some_ kind of discussion was in order whether it was welcome or not.

'Oh my Fucking GOD!' Jimmy exclaimed, bending at the knees to briefly throw his head forwards into his waiting hands, abandoning the stoic (if pained) demeanour he had maintained throughout the roasting from Carson. He almost overbalanced but managed to save himself by snapping his upper body back into a standing position, his right hand remained fixed to the side of his head, tugging at his hair.

'Well that was…' Thomas raised his eyebrow as he took a few steps into the room. '…interesting.' He concluded with a hint of amusement, feeling the mask he had adopted for Carson's sake slipping comfortably away.

'Oh God!' Jimmy moaned, his upper body briefly lurching forwards again as though one could dry-heave up the excruciating torment of embarrassment.

'Well I don't know about you, but I'm expecting some funny looks over breakfast tomorrow.' Said Thomas with a small chuckle, sitting down on the side of Jimmy's bed after observing the one spare chair in the room was laden with towels.

'How are you laughing at this?' Said Jimmy, his eyes wild, staring at Thomas as though he had grown an extra head.

'Well…it is pretty funny.' Said Thomas, unintentionally backing up the sentiment with a bout of uncontrollable hysterical laughter as he spoke.

Jimmy's eyes widened further.

'Look…I mean…' Thomas did his best to get ahold of himself in the face of Jimmy's outrage. '… _think_  of what they saw. That sheltered and straight-laced lot. Just think. You have to admit that's funny.'

'It's not Fucking funny Thomas!' Jimmy shouted.

'Calm down.' Thomas said in what he hoped was a soothing voice, forcing the amusement out of his expression. 'Nothing will come of it, Mr Carson said so himself. So don't worry.' Thomas couldn't resist another chuckle. 'Besides, can you just imagine him trying to explain what he saw to His Lordship? I doubt he even knows the words for it…'

'There's 'words' for it?' Said Jimmy sourly, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

'Eh! Don't be acting like you weren't enjoying that.' Said Thomas.

Jimmy turned his head away, ostensibly to go and open the window a crack to get some cool air on his hot cheeks. But the manoeuvre had the additional effect of setting off the coil or wariness in Thomas's stomach that had been gradually building all evening.

'Don't you understand that I'm  _embarrassed_ , Thomas?' Said Jimmy miserably, testing the side of his face with the back of his hand to see if the heat on his cheeks and forehead had subsided as he stared out the window.

'You're embarrassed.' Said Thomas slowly. 'That's why you're so upset?'

'Of course that's why I'm upset!' Said Jimmy. 'They bloody  _know_  now. And I'll bet you by tomorrow everyone else will as well.' He shook his head sadly, attempting to dispel the distressing thought.

'So…' Thomas began again. '…you're not so much worried about…' He sat forwards, rubbing at his chin. '…being seen during an 'intimate moment' so to speak…or more specifically, about having been seen on your knees with your mouth wide open?'

'Of course I'm worried about that!' Said Jimmy, spinning around from his place by the window to face Thomas. 'Now they'll all know I'm like you.'

Thomas gave an amused grimace, nodding dryly at the confirmation of his suspicions.

'Jimmy…' He said. 'Not me, nor anyone else, would disagree with your right to be embarrassed about being seen in the position you were seen in tonight. But…' Thomas removed the hand from his chin and waggled a finger in Jimmy's direction. 'Shall I tell you what I  _do_  take issue with? I take issue with you objecting in principle to being seen for what you  _are_.'

'Why would I want anyone to know?' Jimmy hissed.

Now it was Thomas's turn to stare, although his gaze was full of a dark pensiveness completely absent from Jimmy's expression of agitated mania.

'It's not something people like us ever want to let people in on because of the way things are.' Thomas conceded. 'But…but all you've got out of it is a red face and a few harsh words from Carson. That's all.'

'But…'

'No. Actually.' Said Thomas, rising from the bed, his forehead creasing into a frown. 'It's not like…oh, I don't know…you've lost your job or anything because of it.' Said Thomas, bitterly sarcastic. 'Got threatened with total ruin, and suchlike.'

Jimmy glanced awkwardly down at the floor. 'Thomas…' He began softly.

'No. No 'Thomas'. I could be starving in a gutter somewhere right now because of what  _you_ tried to do to me! Fucks sake! Tonight you got told to wash your mouth out with soap for sucking my cock, back then  _I_ got told I should be horse-whipped for bloody  _kissing_  you…did you know that?...and  _YOU'RE_ the one who wants some sympathy!?'

'I didn't think I had a choice!' Jimmy shouted back. 'O'Brien said…'

'Oh you had a choice.' Said Thomas darkly, pressing his lips together tightly as he considered his next words. 'When were you planning on apologising to me Jimmy?  _Were_  you ever planning to apologise?' He said in fake throwaway nonchalance.

'I didn't  _ask_  for you to come into my room that night Thomas.' Said Jimmy. 'Funny how you seem to forget that.'

'So have a go at me! Shout at me! Hit me!' Thomas shouted. 'Don't send me out with no money and no prospects to starve on the street!'

'Still…' Jimmy said with a stubbornness more suited to a child. '… _you_ never apologised for  _that_.'

'I'm sorry.' Thomas responded instantly in a small voice. 'And I'm sorry for this too.' He said, sweeping a hand between them, his face hardening. 'Won't happen again. Because you know what…' He said with a curl of his lip. '…you're not worth it.'

'What?' Jimmy exclaimed, thrown, his mouth falling open in surprise and shocked alarm as Thomas headed for the door.

'You heard me.'

Thomas slammed the door shut behind him.


End file.
